


Strictly Confidential

by Asynca



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Comedy, Gen, light-hearted theme but serious execution, lol, please google the company in this if you don't get the joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: Wrathion gives Anduin a special scroll to open in private. Genfic (with M/M themes). Light-hearted.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	Strictly Confidential

Back resting firmly against his office door, Anduin looked down at the scroll in his hands.

It looked innocuous enough, like a normal scroll that just happened to be sealed with a Black Dragonflight crest. He felt a little foolish squirrelling it away into his office like it was something illicit; after all, all the scrolls Wrathion had delivered to Anduin so far had just been notes on the Old Gods and accounts of the strange happenings in Azeroth he considered attributable to them.

However, all the other scrolls had also been delivered by masked couriers, not by Wrathion himself after he and Anduin had spent an entire three course meal in the Wrynn family dining room, sitting tensely across from each other. Well, Anduin himself had been horribly tense (how could he not be?!), but Wrathion had looked completely at ease. He’d spent all three courses making what he clearly thought was pleasant conversation about various things, obviously enamoured with the sound of his own voice. Anduin could hardly bear it. After two hours needing to look across the table at the unfortunately pretty face of the man who played a large part in the events that lead to the death of his father, it was all he could do not to punch Wrathion again.

After their meal, Wrathion dabbed his perfect lips with a Wrynn family napkin, and was making some platitude about thanking Anduin for a nice dinner that he had weaselled himself into in front of the entire court, when he said, “Oh! How silly of me, I nearly forgot.” He reached into his empty pocket and somehow retrieved a sealed scroll from it. “Before you receive your intelligence reports tonight, I thought you might want to indulge in something more… interesting.” There was an infuriating smirk on his face. “Open in it private,” he said casually over his shoulder as he vanished in a sweep of flame.

So here Anduin was, locked in his office and glaring down at a scroll.

He was probably going to be annoyed with its contents, that much he was sure of. Better to get it out the way, then. Grumbling, opened it: no sense in wasting more time on that dragon.

He swept his thumb under the seal and let it unroll in his hands. It didn’t stop at the normal length, though, so he took a few steps over to his desk and spread it open there.

Immediately, he could see it wasn’t an intelligence report. It was covered in unrecognisable shapes that almost looked like strange weapons, and the embellished text across the top read ‘Bad Dragon’.

That, Anduin laughed once at. “’Bad Dragon’ is right,” he said bitterly, and then leant closer to try and determine what the diagrams were.

There were—things that looked like horns, tentacles, and oddly-shaped…. molluscs, perhaps? All drawn in expensive ink and lovingly coloured. It wasn’t until he noticed they all had prices listed underneath them that he realised it was some sort of catalogue. He began to feel increasingly uneasy about whatever this was, so he stepped up to the top of the table to read the title text.

“Bad Dragon,” he read aloud. “Admit it: you’re curious about dragons. We all are. Bad Dragon toys allow you to indulge your fantasies in the privacy of your own…” Anduin’s voice trailed off as his jaw fell open.

Toys.

It—didn’t mean toys for children, did it?

He was staring wide-eyed at that mollusc-like diagram when there was a flash of light beside him.

For some reason, he thought it would be Wrathion. Yelping, he threw himself in front of the table like it would conceal even part of the offending scroll and hide the fact he’d opened it.

Instead, he found himself staring into the familiar face of Jaina Proudmoore.

She had begun to say, “Apologies for being earlier than usual, but we found some sort of altar on the coast of Drustvar, along with the bodies of—” She stopped speaking abruptly when she saw his face.

Anduin felt all the colour drain from it. “Jaina.”

Her brown knit in concern. “Anduin, are you alright? You seem—” she considered him, “off colour.”

“I’m perfectly fine, I assure you. Just,” he paused, “just tired.”

She clearly didn’t believe him. Her eyes moved from his pale face, to his body (which he had to admit was in a rather awkward position), to the contents of the table he was trying to conceal with his awkwardly-positioned body.

She frowned. It was the sort of frown a mother might give her son when she realised he was hiding something from her. Her tone darkened. “What’s that?” She nodded at the scroll.

“Nothing!” Anduin tried to tell her, but she’d already taken a few steps towards the table to see past him. By reflex he tried to block her, but that just made her give him a stern look and push him firmly aside. “No, Jaina!” he began, but it was too late. She’d seen it.

For a moment, her frown deepened with confusion. She reached towards the scroll and, just as he had, examined the diagrams. It wasn’t until her eyes tracked up to the title and along the text that her eyes widened and she froze a moment.

When she looked at him, it was as if she’d never seem him before. Anduin felt his face flush a deep, hot red.

For a moment, she said nothing. In fact, it looked as if she was going to apologise. It didn’t last long.

She must have recalled which particular dragon Anduin had recently been in the company of. Her mouth slammed shut, and dark clouds practically gathered over her head. “Wrathion.” Her voice was low and at the back of her throat like a primal growl.

Anduin had no doubt if he confirmed it was him, Jaina would waste not a single second in going to find Wrathion and making a very genuine attempt to kill him. For some reason, Anduin didn’t want that. “No, it wasn’t him.”

Jaina still looked as if a violent blizzard were literally about to burst from her flesh. The temperature in the room had dropped. “If he’s doing anything to you, I swear by the Light that I will tear the throat from his—”

“He’s not.”

Jaina’s eyes narrowed.

Knowing he needed to be believable, Anduin forced a gentle smile and put a hand on Jaina’s freezing shoulder. “He’s not, I promise.” What could he possibly tell her?! He forced some words out of his mouth. “A friend of mine sent this to me as a prank because of how much I hate him, him fact.”

She was still staring at him. “Which friend.”

By Azeroth. “Taelia,” he said immediately, knowing Jaina trusted her. He then privately promised her he’d make it up to poor Taelia for using her as an alibi. “She knows how much I hate him, and she was just baiting me. It’s all in good fun.”

Jaina spent several moments eye-to-eye with him. Then, the storm eased somewhat.

To spare himself the weight of Jaina’s scrutiny, he extracted himself from between her and the table and tried to casually roll up the scroll. “I was just going to dispose of it, actually. A bit of crass joke; I’m sorry you had to see something so tasteless.” He walked over to the fireplace with it. He was holding it out to the flames when they suddenly blew back against the wall of the grate. 

Looking over his shoulder at Jaina, he saw she had her hand outstretched.

“Better leave it with me,” she said, and then the scroll plucked itself from his fingers and flew across the room into his open palm. “I can dispose of it properly.” Rather than immediately burning it in her hand as she usually did most confidential intelligence, she tucked it carefully in her hip pocket. “Anyway,” she said, completely changing the subject, “as I was saying, scouts have found an altar on the coast of Drustvar that looks to be to do with the worship of the Old Gods…”

What she said after that, Anduin couldn’t be sure. He could only stare at her hip pocket and wonder why she hadn’t burnt the scroll.

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't know what Bad Dragon is, google it. Just don't google it at work!


End file.
